


Still Attached

by SophieD



Series: Star Trek The Next Generation (not Beverly/Deanna stories) [1]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Attached, F/M, Love, Mind Reading, Smut, Unrequited Love, one night, psychic connection, season 7, sex without much plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 05:31:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8652778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophieD/pseuds/SophieD
Summary: What if she had stayed?





	

**Author's Note:**

> In the season 7 episode, Attached, Beverly finally learns of Jean-Luc's long time love for her due to implants in their brains that let them hear each other's thoughts. He tells her that he's over her, that now they can just be friends. At the end of the episode, they meet for dinner. Things start to get intense and they almost kiss. She leaves. What if she had stayed?
> 
> Love comments and constructive criticism.

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                             

            

 Beverly Crusher pushes herself away from the table. He stands as well and watches her as she moves gracefully to his sofa. With a soft sigh, Jean-Luc Picard turns away to pour her another glass of wine. He hands it to her and she smiles sweetly at him as he sinks into a chair.

 _“That was wonderful,”_ she says.  
He smiles back. _“My pleasure.”_  
_“Don't get me wrong, Jean-Luc, but I'm glad we're not joined at the hip anymore.”_  
_“So, were you getting tired of my company?”_ he asks with a tease to his voice.  
_“Just tired of bumping into you every thirty seconds. I was beginning to feel as if you were part of my uniform,”_ she laughs softly.  
He raises his glass. _“To freedom.”_  
Beverly holds hers up as well. _“Freedom.”_

They sit quietly for a moment, neither quite sure what to say next. Finally, Beverly breaks the awkward silence.  
_“Penny for your thoughts?”_  
He looks up at her. _“I was just thinking that as distracting as it was, I was beginning to get used to hearing your thoughts and I find that I miss it.”_  
She smiles shyly _. “So do I. It was very intimate.”_

She thinks for a second before adding, _“You know, last night I couldn't sleep.”_  
_“Oh?”_  
_“I was awake for several hours.”_ She gives him a sly smile. _“And thanks to the implants, I got to hear some very interesting dreams of yours.”_  
_“A man can't be held responsible for what his mind does while he's asleep.”_ He manages to keep his voice even but his red cheeks give him away.  
_“What about when he's awake?”_

He looks at her face, a bit startled by the seductive tone to her voice, trying to figure out what she’s implying. He has no idea what to say or do next. She’s quiet as well and he wonders if she’s inviting him to come closer or just trying to tease him again.

He hears his voice crack slightly as he asks, _“so now that we've had this unique experience, what do we do?”_  
_“What do you mean?”_ She asks, feigning innocence.  
_“You know exactly what I mean.”_  
_“No, I don't. The implant's been removed, remember?”_  
She’s going to make him ask. _“Now that we know how each of us feels, perhaps we should not be afraid to explore those feelings.”_

Beverly’s face doesn’t change and, again, he’s confused about what it is she wants. She stands and walks to where he sits. She leans close, close enough he can smell the sweetness of her skin. He waits, wondering.

  
She brushes her lips against his cheek _. “Or perhaps we should be afraid. I think I should be going now.”_ He follows her as she walks slowly to his door. He leans forward to open it and she pauses. She raises her eyes to meet his. He leans closer and her lips part. He has no idea what she wants but he has only one thought, one need. He needs to know if she wants him, if she ever wanted him.  Once, just once, he needs to taste her lips, to know once and for all if any of his dreams were true.

She watches, as he moves closer. Her brain tells her to move, to say goodnight and turn away, but her body betrays her. She finds herself lifting her face to meet his, feels the shock of electricity as his lips touch hers.  
“Jean-Luc…,” she whispers.  
He stares into her eyes. “Stay?”  
“I shouldn’t…, I should…”  
He kisses her softly again and, this time, she kisses him back with a soft moan. He pulls her back from the door and it slides shut behind her. This time, when he kisses her, she wraps her arms around his neck and parts her lips. He gently licks her upper lip. When she doesn’t protest, he slips his tongue in, searching for hers. She moans again and pulls her arms tighter. His hands encircle her waist now, he wants, he needs to pull her closer, to become one with her.

Beverly pulls back and turns her head away.  
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I don’t know what…”  
“Shhh. It’s OK.”  
“You should go.”  
“I should, yes.”  
“Are you going to go?”  
She turns back into him. “No. I’m not going. I’m not going to go.” Her words end with a whimper as he pulls her back into a bruising kiss. She presses her body against his and he can’t wait another second. His arms wrap around her, fingers searching for the closure on her dress. He can feel her heat, her desire, radiating out and engulfing him. He lets his fingers drag along the newly exposed skin on her back and she begins to push at him.

  
He can’t think of anything but her taste and her smell as he leads her to his bed. He’s been waiting so many years for just  this moment. He wants to hurry. He wants it to never end. She finally lets her dress slide to the floor and he gasps. His fingers twitch. She is beautiful, he knew she was beautiful. He had no idea how beautiful. He wants to map every part of her with his fingers and with his tongue. She’s got her hand on his chest, fingering his hair where it shows through the V of his shirt. He feels drunk by her touch as she slides her hand inside and fingers his nipple.

He wants to take his time, to savor every moment but she’s impatient. She tugs at the hem of his shirt and he pulls it off. Her hand goes back to his chest while his wrap in her copper colored hair, pulling it free from its ties. It cascades around her face as he pulls her close again for another kiss.

As he kisses her, she begins to press herself against him again. His leg is between hers and he can feel her desire through the thin fabric of his trousers. They are tight. Too tight. Unbearably tight and he wriggles to free himself. She understands and slides her hand down the front, pulling the fabric away but its only temporary relief as her finger tips brush against him.

“Beverly,” he chokes out her name. “Please. If you’re going…if you have to go…”  
She cradles his face with her hands. “No. I’m not going. Jean-Luc? Please…make love to me Jean-Luc.”

  
He stares into her eyes. He sees her tears. He wants to cry himself. He lets his eyes travel her body. She is long and lean, her body well-muscled from dance. Her arms and legs are strong. He can’t help but imagine them wrapped around his body. He slowly raises his hand to her breast. She watches carefully as he trails the tips of his fingers across her. Her breath catches as they close around the nipple, gently rolling it as it hardens at his touch. Her own hand falls. It moves up the inside of his thigh before brushing against the bulge in his pants.

  
“Please…” she whispers again as her fingers close on the waist band, tugging gently. She pulls it away and frees him with her hand. His pants fall as her fingers close tightly around him. With a groan, he kisses her again and she presses her leg into his balls. She falls backwards onto the bed, pulling him down with her.

  
He stares at her again, his eyes fixated on her small, firm breasts. He lowers himself to take one plump red nipple in his mouth and she arches up into him. Her fingers massage his smooth pate while she continues to rub her leg against him.  
His vision begins to waver, the need threatens to overtake him. He’s waited so long. His whole life. Now he can’t wait another second. He pushes up, holding himself above her, wanting to know what she wants.  
With a smile she reaches her hand to him, starting at the base and pulling it along his length. Her eyes are dilated as she stares at him, her fingers pulling him closer and closer. He can feel her heat now, he’s so close. She pushes her hand back up, squeezing him hard while she lets his tip graze her wetness.

He wants to be inside her but she’s not ready. She arches herself up and rubs herself along the back side of his penis, wetting him. At the same time, she rubs her thumb along the tip, spreading his own moisture and sending waves of ache through him. He can’t hurry her now. She’s in charge and he’s only along for the ride. He closes his eyes and lets her have her way.

She presses herself, rubbing herself faster against his hardness, her breathing increases. When he thinks he can’t take another second she stops. She drops herself back down to the bed and widens her legs. Her hand still holds him tight and she guides him back, teasing him again with a little taste of herself. She slowly allows him entry, only the head, before pushing him back away. He groans softly and she brings him back, letting him go just a little bit deeper before moving away again.

He’s holding himself above her as she lets him in, just a little bit farther each time, letting him feel her warmth for just a second. Each time he presses farther, each time he feels the pressure increase until, finally, she removes her hand and arches into him. He slides all the way in, feeling himself press against her cervix with a jolt of electricity. His arms begin to wobble and he clenches, trying to hold himself in place.

  
“My God Beverly!” he murmurs as he is suddenly overcome with emotion. He’s dreamed so many times of this moment, been with so many women. But never has he felt anything like this. Her hot wetness, her depth, her taught muscles. He feels as if he’s slipped into a glove that was made only for him.

The soft noise she makes as he fills her sets him on edge. He clenches his teeth, willing himself to wait, wanting to be sure she’s as ready as he is.

Her hand is back on his chest, she’s pushing him up, away. He slowly withdraws, loving the feeling of her hips rising to follow him, squeezing to hold on to him. He hovers above her. She looks down his body, smiling slightly as she sees him, poised above her. She runs her fingers up him again, pausing to rub the glans hard with her thumb. She feels him twitch, she knows what he needs but her other hand is still firmly planted on his sternum, holding him away.

He watches as she dips her fingers inside herself, coating them. She slides them forward with a small whimper when they touch her clit. She begins to move her fingers, slowly at first. It’s not long before her hips are moving in time, reaching up to touch him, giving him the barest hint of what is to come.

He lowers himself again, sliding deep into her. He forces himself to be still, let her movement provide the friction that he craves. He begins to pull out again and she clenches, trying desperately to hold on to him as he retreats.

He watches her face. Her eyes are closed, mouth open. Her cheeks are scarlet from exertion and desire. Every breath is labored, ending with a high pitched wheeze.  
Her hand is moving faster now, rubbing herself hard. He knows she’s close. He can see the look of intense pleasure moving across her beautiful face. Still he waits, trembling. Every buck of her hips takes him millimeters deeper then away again. He’s waiting for the moment, the perfect moment, the moment he’s dreamed about his entire life.

Suddenly, she rises up. Her free hand digs into his back, pulling him down. She slams her body hard into his, driving him deeper and deeper. He can’t hold back any longer. He can feel the pull on his testicles, the fluid moving through him. He times his thrusts with her wild movements. One, two, three, each time harder, burying him so far inside her that he feels he may never come back out. He feels his balls slap against her, her body gripping him tighter, her hips moving so fast they double, triple the pressure of each of his moves. The only noises are the sounds of his grunts and her whimpers. Everything he ever wanted in his entire life is right here in this moment.

With a loud cry, her fingers still. Her body goes rigid, gripping him tighter than he ever thought possible. He lets go, his body is no longer his own. His only thought is of the blinding light, the unbearable feeling of release, an ecstasy he never could have imagined.

He collapses onto her, no longer in control of himself. He feels her fingers begin to move again, slowly, pushing herself against him where he still sits inside her. Her breath catches and he knows that she’s still in the moment, she’s prolonging the pleasure, it feels good and he gently pushes back against her in time. He can feel her contractions around him, waning and then she grips him again, gentler this time, longer. Finally, she relaxes, her body limp, her breathing slowing to normal. He gently pulls out of her and settles himself between her slick thighs. She sighs deeply and wraps her arms and legs around him, rolling them both to the side, her head tucked into his shoulder.

Neither speak for several minutes. He can feel her breath where it tickles his chest hair, her fingers as she gently rubs them across the bumps in his spine. He breathes deeply, memorizing her smell, the feel of her body, trying to convince himself this isn’t just another dream. In all of his dreams, he never imagined her feeling so good, so right. He never wants to move, spoil the moment, wake and find himself alone in his bed.

She starts to stir and he reluctantly releases her. He stares at her face. Her ice blue eyes are bright and shiny, her lips and cheeks still the deep red of arousal. He uses his fingers to wipe the damp hair from her forehead and she smiles at him.  
“Beverly I…” He pauses, not exactly sure what he wants to say. That this was a mistake? That it was the best he’s ever had? That he loves her? That he doesn’t? She slowly shakes her head. Don’t talk. Don’t spoil it.

She thinks for a few moments before she speaks.  
“Why did you lie to me? How did you lie to me?”  
“What do you mean?”  
“The implant.”  
He sighs. “It wasn’t a lie. Not then. I’ve told myself that story every night for the last seven years. That I was over you. That we could just be friends. I believed it. I thought I did. And then you came here tonight and I realized that I wasn’t over you. That I never will be. I love you Beverly. I always have. I always will. Being your friend, I treasure that. I don’t, didn’t, ever want to jeopardize that, take the chance of losing you forever.”  
“Oh Jean-Luc!” She lays her palm tenderly on his cheek. “I don’t want to lose that either. You mean everything to me. You always will. I do love you. And this? What happened here? It was beautiful. Something I will never forget.”  
“But?”  
She closes her eyes for a second with a slight shrug. She leans toward him and kisses him softly on the lips.  
“Good night Jean-Luc.”  
She slides out of his bed and starts to retrieve her clothing.  
“Beverly?”  
“Hmmm?”  
“Will you come back tomorrow night?”  
She turns to look at him. Her eyes are soft, her smile wistful.  
“I don’t know.”

Outside his door, she falls back against the cool metal lining the hallway.  
“I just don’t know” she whispers. She collects herself and walks slowly toward her own quarters.


End file.
